“Gwlad Ein Tadau”
(“Land of Our Fathers”)
—Motto of the Principality of Qua-Toyne
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22:37 WT, 8th of Memesa, 1995 (8th of February, 1639)
Cafeteria, West Wing, Site Alpha, [Unknown County], Tirnikt, Neragon
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"Checkmate," said a voice triumphantly, cutting through the quiet hum of the monotonously grey cafeteria, as the man moved his bishop diagonally across the board, pinning down his opponent's king.
His opponent, a dark-eyed young man, groaned. "Can you at least let me win once? my ego could use the boost."
The victor chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "And ruin your learning curve, Oliver? Never."
"Won again I see, Ben," a brown-haired man appeared, a mug of steaming coffee in hand.
The man named Ben grinned, "Of course."
The newcomer rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "I honestly don't know why you bother challenging him, Oli. I bet Ben's been playing that game since he was in the womb."
Now it was Ben's turn to roll his eyes, laughing lightly. "I'm flattered, but I just had a good teacher."
There was a long silence.
"Speaking of teachers, Arthur, how's it going with A-15?" Oliver asked, taking a sip from his flask which sat beside the chessboard.
The newcomer, Arthur, grimaced. "Well, I'm not dead yet so that's a plus.”
Oliver and Ben both gave Arthur what seemed to be a sympathetic look.
“That bad?” Oliver said.
“Yeah. I think I'm gonna ask for a transfer soon though. Stupid thing's been getting restless ever since the displacement."
Oliver opened his mouth to reply when suddenly, an alarm blared through the cafeteria, jolting them and every other person in the room.
"What in the world?" Oliver exclaimed, as both he and Ben stood up in alarm.
"CODE YELLOW, CODE YELLOW, ALL CIVILIAN PERSONNEL EVACUATE TO DESIGNATED SAFE ZONES IMMEDIATELY," blared the intercom.
The calmness of the cafeteria shattered as the sound of scrambled feet echoed through the room.
"C'mon, let's go before we get caught with our pants down," Ben said as he swiped his phone on the table and rushed toward the exit, beckoning Oliver and Arthur to follow.
"Who d'you reckon messed up this time?" Oliver asked as they jogged behind a stream of other staff members, passing three guards as they did who gave them a brief glance.
"Knowing our luck, probably that sentient lamppost again," Ben replied with a half-smirk, his pace quickening as they approached the emergency bunker.
Another guard ushered them into the bunker, a reinforced underground area, just as Oliver heard the sirens stop.
The bunker was a low-ceilinged room, but it was spacious enough to not be too crowded by the hurrying staff who now gathered within its confines. There were mutterings and murmurs as everyone tried to make sense of the sudden alert.
Oliver, Ben, and Arthur quickly found a corner to settle in.
After a moment, Ben nudged Oliver. "Hey, should I go ask what's going on?" He said, gesturing at a group of men crowded around at a screen.
“Wh—,” But Oliver did not manage to finish his sentence as Ben had already gotten up to walk towards them, leaving him with Arthur, who, seeing that Ben was gone leaned closer to Oliver saying, "I hope it isn't anything serious this time. The drill I had when I was an intern left me questioning my life choices."
Oliver chuckled, "Yeah." And left it at that.
They stayed in silence for a few minutes until Ben returned, a strange expression on his face, as if he had accidently tipped over a glass of water but couldn't be bothered to clean it up.
"So?" Oliver prompted, observing Ben's expression.
"Some guy did not properly lock the containment chamber of A-27 and thing's loose."
Arthur's eyes widened in alarm, and he choked out. "A-27? You mean that frog you guys helped find at Loch Comasch back in ‘92?"
Ben eyed Arthur. "Yeah, luckily nobody's been hurt yet. What of it?"
"Nothing," Arthur said quickly, a bit too quickly perhaps, as both Oliver and Ben did not buy it. Yet, they didn't question it.
They ultimately had to stay in the bunker for an hour as the recapture of the entity occurred. At one point, Oliver got roped into a game of poker with a group of colleagues until a voice came over the intercom:
"CODE GREEN, ALL CLEAR, CIVILIAN PERSONNEL MAY LEAVE THEIR DESIGNATED SAVE ZONES, THANK YOU."
With a collective round of cheers, Oliver followed his friends out of the bunker into the corridor outside.
"Man, that was dull," Arthur finally grumbled as they walked through the corridors, the crowd now thinning to only the trio and a few other researchers.
"Dude, you were the one that decided staring off in a corner was a good idea of preoccupying yourself," Ben said. "What was that back there anyways, you looked like you saw a ghost when I told you guys about the thing."
Arthur's eyes darted away for a brief moment. "Er... It's nothing, just concerned, that's all... yeah…"
Then, he spotted at a sign ahead. "Ah! That's my quarters around the corner, I’ll catch you both tomorrow I guess.”
And he scurried away.
Both Oliver and Ben frowned at his departed figure. "He's clearly not telling us about something," Oliver remarked a few moments after Arthur turned a corner and disappeared.
Ben nodded slowly. “Yeah, well I’m not gonna push, he can tell us in his own time.”
“Same here.”
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7:51 WT, 9th of Memesa, 1995 (9th of February, 1639)
3rd Male Researcher’s Quarters, West Wing, Site Alpha, [Unknown County], Tirnikt, Neragon
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"Oi! Folks! Wake up!" A loud voice pierced through Oliver’s haze of sleep. He groaned, still too tired to open his eyes. He heard another colleague grunt as someone shook their bunk, causing metal springs to creak in protest.
"Oi, Willy, Mark, get up!"
Then footsteps moved closer to Oliver. "Oliver, get up, rise and shine!"
Oliver stirred, slowly blinking his foggy eyes open to find Ben looming over him, a grin on his face.
"What's the matter?" Oliver mumbled, now rubbing his eyes.
"There's an announcement today, it's— Oof…"
Ben did not manage to finish his sentence as a pillow whacked him in the back of his head, causing him to stumble forward a bit.
"Stop being so loud, Benjamin," came a grumpy voice from another bunk. Oliver recognised the voice as William's, who was now feeling for his glasses on the bedside table.
"For someone who can't see without their glasses, you sure have good aim," Ben joked, throwing the pillow back at William. He missed.
"Thank you," William said blandly. "Now what's this announcement about." He was now sitting up in his bunk.
Ben straightened. "Head James will be addressing all staff in the central auditorium in an hour. Everyone's expected to be there."
Oliver yawned, stretching his arms. "Alright, alright. Let's get this over with then."
It took no less than 40 minutes for the occupants of the quarters to get dressed and make their way to the central auditorium.
As they reached the entrance, they merged with a larger throng of personnel, finding seats among the rows already filling up. The auditorium was a grand space, nearly 4 stories tall, equipped with a stage at the front where a podium stood, a large "A" emblazoned behind it.
"Hey, Ben, do you see Arthur around?" Oliver asked, scanning the growing crowd.
Ben craned his neck. "Nope, maybe he's late."
They eventually found seats in one of the middle rows, saving a seat for Arthur, just in case.
Minutes past as the auditorium continued to fill with chatter as a large crowd of people continued to shuffle in, finding their places.
At that moment, Oliver spotted a strange thing a few rows ahead amidst the crowd. He squinted, it was clearly humanoid, but it had an odd distortion around it, like looking through hot air. The figure seemed out of place, appearing to flicker as if in and out of focus. An illusion.
"Ben, do you see that?" Oliver nudged his friend, pointing discreetly at the figure.
Ben looked in the direction Oliver pointed. "Yeah, that's odd..." He paused. "Wait a minute, guy seems kinda familiar."
Oliver raised an eyebrow. "Familiar? How so?"
Ben craned his head so much he would've looked like a giraffe if he had continued to stretch. "I'm not sure, it's like déjà vu or something. I swear I've seen something similar..."
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
Then a light seemed to flicker in Ben's eyes, and he paled. "That's an anomaly." He whispered urgently.
"What? Are you sure?" Oliver asked quickly.
"Yeah, it's A-03, I remember it. I worked on it a couple months back, it does these kinds of things... illusions I mean.
Oliver’s eyes widened. "Is it impersonating someone, shouldn't we call security?”
Ben frowned. "Nah, it can't really impersonate someone without their expressed permission... I think the thing's been invited here, that’s the only reason why security ain’t batting an eye it seems."
Oliver looked at the anomaly and then at the stage, where a woman with black wings now appeared, doing something with a microphone.
As if reading his mind, Ben continued. “Besides, if it isn’t supposed to be here, Head James would’ve noticed.” He said in a confident tone.
"This is wild," Oliver mumbled.
"Hm?"
"Don't you realise how many strange things have been happening lately? First, there was the displacement, Arthur's behaviour yesterday, and now an announcement where an anomaly needs to attend."
"Right... I see where you're coming from, but for all we know it could just be one giant coincidence." Ben paused. "But yeah, it is kinda strange how so many interesting things’ve happened in what, the last week?"
They sat in uncomfortable silence, the background noise of the assembling crowd humming around them.
"Hey guys."
Oliver nearly jumped when he heard the voice right beside him and judging by a quiet gasp, Ben seemed startled too.
"Oh gods Arthur, why did you scare me like that?" Oliver exclaimed in a hushed tone.
Arthur shrugged nonchalantly. "Sorry, couldn't resist Oli." And he sat down in the saved seat, a grin on his face. "I overslept this morning, sorry about that."
"S'okay, Arthur, at least you're here," Ben responded before Oliver could.
At that moment, a screech filled the auditorium, cutting through the chatter and causing Oliver to cover his ears instinctively.
He looked at the stage. The winged woman had been tapping on the microphone, causing a feedback loop to screech through the speakers, like unoiled machinery grinding against each other.
The woman paused, glancing around as the high-pitched noise subsided. She flashed an apologetic smile, her emerald eyes darting around the audience before she spoke, her voice now amplified but devoid of the previous screech.
"Apologies for that, ladies and gentlemen." Her voice echoed throughout the auditorium. "I trust you all can hear me clearly now."
The murmurs of the crowd died down as they turned their focus to the woman on stage.
"Good, good," she continued, "Now usually, Herr Nott would be addressing this assembly, but due to... unforeseen circumstances, I've been asked to step in on his behalf."
Oliver was only barely listening, as he was more focused on the anomaly a few rows ahead. It seemed to be watching the stage intently, as if awaiting something.
The woman adjusted the microphone, her wings rustling slightly behind her. "As of present, Herr Nott has been given the position of interim Chief Director of VROEMG..." Nobody was surprised. "And the Anomalous Containment Assembly has agreed on a new policy on VROEMG activities in this New World – a notice should be posted on our communication forum and distributed to all affiliated units shortly."
She continued. "Now, as some of the more observant members may have noticed, we have a couple anomalies among us."
Wait, anomalies? As in more than one?!
As if on cue – and it most definitely was – A-03 stood up while two other figures seemed to materialise near the stage, their presence causing several yelps and gasps from the people near them.
"What in the world is going on!" Oliver heard someone shout, and the auditorium descended into chaos.
Oliver looked at Arthur, his eyes were wide, gaze flickering between the anomalies and the baffled crowd. Then, he glanced at Oliver's neutral non-surprised expression and gaped.
"Y-you knew about that?" Arthur stammered, almost hopefully; his voice was barely audible amidst the uproar.
Oliver shook his head. "No, me and Ben noticed A-03 but we don't know what is happening."
Arthur buried his face in his hands.
CRACK!
A thunderous sound echoed through the auditorium, causing Oliver to cover his ears, again. The ceiling trembled, dust sifting down from above.
The winged woman had clapped her hands together, silencing the room in an instant. She nodded in approval, as if pleased with herself in some way. "Please, remain calm. These anomalies are not a threat. They are guests."
Nobody spoke directly, although Oliver could hear murmurs around him.
"Now, let me properly introduce you to them," the woman continued. The anomalies had somehow gotten onto the stage without Oliver noticing. "We have A-03, A-09 and A-10."
Oliver took the opportunity to observe the anomalies more closely. A-03 still maintained its illusion, standing with a strange sense of confidence, its form flickering occasionally. A-09, a short green-skinned creature, appeared jittery, its eyes darting around the auditorium nervously. While A-10, a door-sized block of black mist floated silently behind Head James.
Ben stood up abruptly, pulling Oliver out of his thoughts. "Head James!" He shouted. "What must be so important that anomalies have to be involved in an announcement?"
The winged woman merely looked at him and smiled, "I'm glad you asked Researcher… Walker, this is part of our policy with the New World. Chief Director Nott has decided our relations with the anomalies we house need to change." She paused briefly. "So, he has decided that our most cooperative residents that agree to it – who are these three – should form a field team for... specific tasks."
Oliver watched as A-09 seemed to shrink under the gaze of the assembled crowd, a constipated expression on its small face.
Someone a few rows behind shouted. "And what are these 'specific tasks'"?
"That, I'm afraid, is classified to those with Level-B clearance and higher as well as selected Level-C personnel." She responded.
Oliver exchanged a glance with Ben, both equally puzzled by the sudden change in protocol. "Do you think Herr Nott is planning something?" Oliver whispered.
Ben shrugged. "What d'ya think Arthur?"
But he didn't respond.
“Arthur?” Oliver turned to the seat of the man in question, only to find it was now empty.
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17:39 EPT (East Philadean Time) (15:39 WT), 9th of Memesa, 1995 (9th of February, 1639)
Port District, Maihark, Eastern Province, Qua-Toyne
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Agent Llwyd strode along the bustling harbour of the alien city. He hated it, with its primitive technology, unsanitary conditions, and a complete lack of a law enforcement system. He nearly been pickpocketed twice today! No wonder life expectancy was so low during the Middle Era. But he had a job to do: get as much information about this new world as possible.
He glanced at the docked ships of different shapes and sizes, there were galleys, galleons, and even one or two steamships.
Thankfully, it seemed the language of Qua-Toyne was quite similar to Potern, his native language, making communication less of a hassle. News and rumours had been going around about Qua-Toyne's contact with a nation called "Japan". It was a name that somehow evoked a strange feeling of nostalgia in him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
After doing some snooping, he found out the country had claimed to be transferred to this new world, much like Neragon. This piqued his interest of course, and he decided to do a bit more digging, and now, he had somewhat of a timeline of Qua-Toyne's contact with this Japan.
Apparently, a so-called "iron dragon" – possibly an aircraft of some kind – had appeared over the city a few weeks ago before being chased away by a wyvern squadron stationed in Maihark. Around the same time, a fleet had made contact with a "floating fortress" – a large ship? – that belonged to Japan after which formal contact was possibly made.
Then, negotiations were conducted for exporting agricultural products to Japan, in return, the transferred country would help Qua-Toyne develop its infrastructure in regards to the transportation of said food among other things that he couldn't quite discern.
He had heard a team of Japanese arrived in Maihark just a few hours, and right now, he was tailing them, as they were led by a burly elven guide who spoke animatedly with the Japanese in unheard conversations. Llwyd kept his distance, making sure not to draw any attention.
The Japanese team all wore dull, greyish-white uniforms, with equally dull hardhats, outfits which contrasted strangely with the vibrant archaic clothing of the natives.
The Japanese were a modern country, Llwyd realised, this was evident not just from their attire but also from the gadgets, one was even clearly carrying a camera of some sort.
Could it truly be mere chance that two countries, operating at similar (or near similar) technological levels, find themselves displaced into the same world at same time?
Whatever the case, this discovery needed to be reported to the higher-ups.
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23:14 WT, 8th of Memesa, 1995 (8th of February, 1639)
Central Directorate for Paranormal Investigations and Temporal Phenomena, Department of Magic (6th floor), Ministry of Interior Headquarters, Loweheim District, Greater Wilding, Aialand, Neragon
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Satoru Miyaguchi sat in his small but comfortable office, surrounded by stacks and stacks of paperwork, a great lump of a computer stuffed into a corner of his desk which bordered the white wall. A fluorescent light flickered uncertainly overhead, but he ignored it. He had grown quite used to the outdated nature of the Department of Magic.
The office was empty apart from him, unlike everyone else, he did not have anyone or anything to go home to. No family eagerly waiting for his return, no pets to feed, just a quiet apartment awaiting his solitary presence.
And he knew exactly why this was. On that fateful day in 2012, or as he now knew it as 1989, he quite literally fell into a new world. Satoru had been taking a walk one day on the outskirts of his hometown when he tripped on a gnarled tree root, and in the blink of an eye, realised he was no longer in Japan.
Six years passed, and Satoru had managed to adapt to this new life. The strange creatures and the existence of magic had been off-putting at first, and the cultural shocks had been frequent, but he eventually got over it.
Other people had been displaced by this reality as well, and Satoru had even met a few of them. Yet the homes they spoke of were very different from his Earth, one didn't even know what the Eiffel Tower was, and he claimed he was from France. They had come from other worlds themselves; he was told. Some he realised were quite similar to his world being that they were from a planet called "Earth", while others were entirely foreign.
Satoru's work as a supervisor had become his lifeline, and it helped him forget the unfortunate circumstances of his existence. He was tasked with overseeing a paranormal investigation squad called Task Force Scarlet in receiving assignments from his superiors, reviewing purchases of equipment, and assisting them in ways like having to call for backup that one time when an assignment went south.
He was quite proud to say that only three people have ever died under his supervision. He wouldn't've been so pleased by that if it weren't for the fact that deaths by paranormal occurrences, especially ghosts were quite easy to undo. (But that didn’t mean they couldn’t possibly be fatal.)
He leaned back in his office chair, taking off his glasses to massage his tired eyes. Task Force Scarlet won't be expected at the location of their assignment until past midnight so Satoru decided to relax for a moment.
He spun around in his office chair, he had enough of the black terminal that was the computer screen. Instead, he took out his phone, the only remnant of his old life. A device when compared to its counterparts in this world, was less of a glass brick and more of a slick card.
Satoru scrolled absentmindedly through the forums of Sofoon. It had been clogged up with posts on the displacement crisis; somehow, there seemed to be more threads on the topic than actual users on the site.
A post came to his attention, it was a released satellite map of the new world Neragon had found itself in. It was around 6 times the size of Earth – he read – with landforms that bore no semblance to both Gentu and his original world.
The map resolution was surprisingly large, so Satoru found himself zooming in to explore the completely alien map. But then, his gaze was drawn to a particular group of islands on the map, near the middle of the map...
No... what? He widened his eyes as he scrutinised the islands, butterflies flitting in his stomach.
That's Japan…
But how?
He closed his eyes, massaging them again.
He counted to 6 and opened his eyes. Yet the geography of the islands remained distinctive.
This must be a mistake, he thought. Yes, that’s what it is, a mistake, a giant coincidence.
There’s no way that’s actually Japan, why would it? It’s located on Earth, off the coast of Korea, not wherever this is. But he should still tell someone shouldn’t he? Just in case?
A strange feeling welled up in Satoru's chest. He had already made peace with the fact he might never return to his original world. Only 6 people were ever known to have left to go back to their home world, and they could be dead for all he knew. He was – regretfully – too much of a coward to even try it.
Satoru took a deep breath, he needed to be calm. Who could he tell without raising questions? VROEMG, there's only VROEMG. They were the ones to find him, after all.
He turned his attention back to his computer and opened the e-mailing application. He had a message to compose.
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Extract from the Daily Post – 8 Memesa 1995
The Great Displacement: Five Days On
Five days have passed since the unprecedented event that shook our country, transporting us into this unknown realm. As scientists, thaumatologists, officials, and the public learn to cope with the sudden change, new developments continue to emerge, regarding our relation with our new neighbours.
In the wake of this unprecedented crisis, diplomatic overtures have emerged between Neragon and the mainland’s eastern neighbour of the Kingdom of Arem. While the details of these discussions remain a secret between the government and the envoys of Arem, reports suggest ongoing negotiations aimed at establishing an alliance of some kind. Sources close to the matter suggest that these talks might extend beyond mere diplomatic relations, possibly involving the exchange of our technology for theirs.
[…]
Another diplomatic mission also looms on the horizon as a team of Neragese diplomats gear up for talks with the Holy Milishial Empire. Key objectives of this impending negotiation include securing access to necessary resources such as coal and agricultural products. These discussions are poised to play a pivotal role in stabilising Neragon's economic landscape amidst this unexpected crisis.
Fletcher-Borgensen, Adrian. (8 Memesa 1995). The Great Displacement: Five Days On. Daily Post. Retrieved 9 Memesa 1995 from https://gbm.tp.kom/n/the-great-displacement-five-days-/34873